Mary was a person of parts and position. How she had appeared at the fight, Anthony, if he had wonderful luck, might never learn; but the fact remained that he had detained her against her will in his apartment, and possibilities loomed so swiftly and numerous before his mental vision that his throat tightened. "You--you're a respectable young woman!" he said hoarsely. "Thank you, unquestionably," Mary smiled dryly. "And--er--as such, the thing to do is to get you out of here as quickly and as inconspicuously as possible." "I've been trying to get out inconspicuously myself," Mary suggested. Anthony rose and his sickly smile appeared again. "I can--can only apologize and assume all the blame," he said unsteadily. "I will have Wilkins bring you your clothes, and as soon as you are dressed we will----" "You mean those men's clothes?" Mary asked sharply. "Of course." "And go out in them in _daylight_?" "Certainly." "I wouldn't do that for an even million dollars!" Mary informed him. "But you'll have to do that!" said Anthony. "But I will not have to do it, because I won't do it!" the girl said flatly and with considerable warmth. "Why, every man, woman, and child in the street would know, the very second they looked at me, and I--oh, no! I won't do that!" "There's nothing else to do!" Anthony cried desperately. "You--er--you don't understand this hotel, young woman. A woman seen leaving one of these apartments and going out of the house, more especially at this time of the day--er----" He flushed angrily. "Yes, I know," Mary said helpfully. "But I'm not going out in those clothes if I stay here and die of old age." And here, from the end of the corridor, Johnson Boller's deep, carrying voice came: "Has he kicked the kid out yet, Wilkins?" "Not yet, sir," said Wilkins's grave tone. "What? Is he going to keep him here after all?" "I should judge so, sir. There's been no disturbance down that way." "Well, what," Johnson Boller muttered audibly, "do you know about that?" "It's most distressing, sir!" Wilkins replied. Anthony Fry's pupils dilated. "He's coming down here, I think!" he said. "Get on that wig again!" "Why?" Mary inquired, pausing in the process of knotting up her wonderful hair. "Because Boller--Boller----" Anthony stammered wildly. "There is no need of his knowing that you're a--a young woman, now or in future. I am speaking for your own sake, you know. You may meet him a thousand times elsewhere in years to come, and there's a mean streak in Boller which----" "Is there?" Mary asked, with what was really her very first touch of concern since resuming her proper sex. "Give me the wig, then."